


PS: happy birthday

by limit_breaker



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Astrology, Birthday Sex, Drinking, M/M, soft kylux???
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-04
Updated: 2017-01-04
Packaged: 2018-09-14 19:40:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9199646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/limit_breaker/pseuds/limit_breaker
Summary: "You're thinking of your homeworld," Kylo said, speaking again. "Arkanis.""Yes, I suppose I am.""I suppose it's normal to reflect on where one came from on the anniversary of one's birth."





	

**Author's Note:**

> yes i wrote myself a birthday fic :')
> 
> The formatting got really weird and spaced out when I tried to post before, so hopefully that's fixed??

==

 

Hux had been leaning over the balcony's balustrade, staring up into the night sky. He had a bottle of local ale that he'd been nursing slowly in one hand, idly picking at the label with his other. With his upcoming promotion, it wasn't often he was planetside these days, and even less common that he would have a night of rest while on such a deployment, but he'd finished his duties early, working overtime so that he might have tonight to relax before heading back to base tomorrow.

Back inside the bar, the chatter had grown more lively as people continued to drink. One woman's high pitched laughter was particularly noticeable over the otherwise indistinct voices of the crowd. Hux was grateful to be out here and away from all of that. He knew he should be inside trying harder to cull favor amongst this collection of First Order elite, many of whom were likely to already be plotting against him, jealous at his quick ascension through the ranks, but Hux didn't get to where he was by basic ass-kissing. It was beneath him. He would let his actions and strategies prove his worth to the Order, not his navel-gazing. Besides, he really wanted to have tonight to himself.

"Hux," said a voice from behind him.

He straightened, fingers instantly stilling, no longer picking at the label. So much for a night to himself. "Ren."

Kylo Ren did not meet his eyes, instead resting his arms over the balustrade in an imitation of the pose Hux had been in just before he'd interrupted his daydreams. Kylo said nothing more, but looked up into the night sky, squinting a bit, searching.

Hux didn't know the young knight well, and had only been introduced somewhat recently by the Supreme Leader himself, but his initial impression was of a spoiled prince. Coming from seemingly nowhere and rising to such favor overnight, Hux couldn't help but to resent him. Information on Kylo Ren was hard to come by and he was a poor conversationalist, awkward yet presumptuous. Always staring. His files were all sealed with maximum security, not even the other knights in his order were as closely guarded. He was a quiet mystery, but Hux didn't fear this man. He eased slightly when the silence stretched on between them, following Kylo's gaze upwards.

Hux took a sip of his drink and scanned the sky for the planet Arkanis. He wondered what was going on there now, all these years later, a small ache for it burning in his chest.

"You're thinking of your homeworld," Kylo said, speaking again. "Arkanis."

"Yes, I suppose I am."

"I suppose it's normal to reflect on where one came from on the anniversary of one's birth."

Hux turned his cheek to find Kylo smirking at him. "I see you've been reading my file in the First Order archives."

"I don't need to," Kylo said, with a self-congratulatory grin.

Hux glared at the implication and Kylo actually had the audacity to look affronted by Hux's lack of enthusiasm for having his thoughts read. Hux ignored his pout at returned his attention to the sky.

"You know,” Kylo started again, “on some planets they have beliefs that the orientation of the planets and stars in the sky on the day of your birth somehow influence how you grow up."

Hux scoffed. “Yes, Ren, I am familiar with the concept of horoscopes."

"Are you familiar with the ones on the planet where I was raised?” Kylo threw back.

Hux snorted again and raised the bottle to his lips. "Don't play ignorant: you know your files are sealed. I don't even know where you come from, though I suppose it must please you to hear me admit this."

Ignoring this, Kylo pointed to a distant dull grey planet. “Arkanis,” he said. “You were born there."

Hux nodded, though it didn't seem that Kylo was asking for this confirmation.

Kylo then indicated to a cluster of stars, mostly blue-ish in hue, some a pale orange. “That one there, that constellation Oeruba, the saboteur. It would have been the constellation you were born under."

"Well, then, pray tell, what does this cluster of stars say about my character?” Hux asked as flippantly as he could manage. He didn't want Kylo to sense any curiosity regarding such nonsense. With Ren's mindreading powers, perhaps there was no need for posturing, but still, better to err on the side of caution when it came to him.

"Oerubans are known for being cold and calculating. Characterized by relentless perseverance and no aversion to employing underhanded methods to achieve their ambitions. Rather narrow-minded in their approaches, but they would argue that this helps them focus on the task at hand rather than get lost in the details."

"Hmm. Accurate, though rather vague,” Hux shrugged, taking a drink from the bottle. "Most people would identify with these traits, Oeruban or not, I'm sure."

"Perhaps. We're all born under the same sky, in the end, so the characteristics are universal, though in varying measure."

"Well, how about you?"

Kylo smirked, not taking his eyes away from the stars. "Are you asking me for my sign?"

Realizing his mistake too late, Hux frowned. Among these cultures that spend their time staring up at the sky trying to find patterns where none exist, he knows that asking for someone's star sign is essentially an expression of interest with some being more compatible than others. He walked right into that. He shook his head and returned to his drink.

"You can't see it from this side of the planet right now anyway," Kylo said, perhaps to cut the awkward silence. "It's on the other side of the galaxy."

Hux rolled his eyes. Figured.

"But I'm a Valga."

"Valga? The hunter twins?"

Kylo nodded. “Dual natured, prone to indecision, but always fierce once their mind is set. Reserved, but passionate. Zealous. Intense.”

"Self-centered and arrogant?” Hux added as a guess, earning him a darkened scowl.

"You know what else they say about those born under Oeruba?"

"What, Ren?” Hux asked tiredly.

"They're stubborn to a fault and blinded by their own simplicity."

"That's--"

"Also accurate," Kylo glared, returning his attention to the stars.

Hux laughed under his breath and did the same, wondering if 'quick to provoke' was another Valga trait. The noise from the bar was growing louder again and, despite the occasional awkwardness, Hux found that he wasn't completely hating the outside company. Maybe it was even preferable to the solitude he'd thought he'd wanted. "You're not drinking?" He asked Ren after another long silence had passed between them and he'd finished his bottle.

"I had some wine before I came out here, but alcohol makes it harder for me to tune out the thoughts of others. It was... very loud in there."

"Well, it's not out here, if you want another one. I'm going for another anyway."

"No," Kylo said, standing back from the railing. "It's your birthday, I'll get them." 

"Oh," Hux stammered as Kylo took the empty bottle from him. Birthdays had been important days of celebration on Arkanis during the days of the Empire, but it was uncommon to even mention birthdays within the ranks of the Order. To call attention to such things would disrupt the group dynamics and cohesion, to raise someone above the rest, even if only for one day. Amongst troopers, it was prohibited, and most didn't know their exact birthdays anyway. There was only the date that they were absorbed into the Order, and that was the same for everyone. Of course, junior and senior officers all knew their birthdates, but to mention it would be considered tacky, unprofessional. The last time Hux's birthday was celebrated was his fifth. The Siege that forced his family to evacuate his homeworld had happened just before his sixth. No one felt much like celebrating after that, and he was enrolled in the Academy soon after where such things were frowned upon. To have someone offer a service like this now... well, Hux didn't know how to respond.

"A 'thank you' will suffice."

Hux blinked, then frowned again. "Ah. Yes. Thank you, Ren."

 

Several drinks later, the two of them were still hanging over the side of the balcony, trading moderately-natured insults and laughing at the other. The party inside had largely wound down, only a few stragglers left inside, including the rather obnoxious woman who, Kylo assured Hux, was this loud by birth, given that her star sign was a Naburan. Hux rolled his eyes.

“I'm just saying," Kylo said with a half-shrug. "It figures that you wouldn't like her. Your signs are completely incompatible. Oerubans are much calmer. They do better with a more reserved, but similarly driven sign as a partner."

"Oh, do they?"

"A Valga is a good choice."

Hux side-eyed him, unsure if Kylo had meant to imply something with that. "A Valga," he repeated. "Well if they are quieter than a Nab-- Nabi? What did you say she was?"

"A Naburan. The loudest sign. Completely wrong for you. Oerubas don't like loud, and they don't get loud. Except..."

Hux raised an eyebrow. "Except what?"

"Except," Kylo said, the corner of his crooked mouth turning up. “Except in bed.”

Hux sputtered, nearly spitting ale all over everywhere as he struggled to recompose himself in the wake of such an absurd statement. “ _What_?”

Turning, Kylo looked up at the stars again and hid his mouth behind his wine glass. Kylo's cheeks were slightly flushed, though from alcohol or shyness, Hux couldn't say. He shook his head, saying nothing more, and took another, smaller sip from the bottle.

“Well?” Kylo asked, turning to look at Hux. “Is it still accurate?”

Hux swallowed his mouthful and turned slowly to meet Kylo's gaze, air now thick with an intangible tension between them. He forced himself to hold Kylo eyes as the corners of his mouth involuntarily twitched upwards, imperceptible to most, but Kylo was not most. "Care to find out?"

Kylo's eyes widened, his smile coming automatically before he could control it, at once happy and shy. Still grinning, he looked down, then back up at the stars, before meeting Hux's eyes again. "I'd like that, Hux."

Their drinks were left half-finished on the balustrade.

 

That night, Kylo had been the model representative of his sign: passionate and intense, fierce as he bit into the softer parts of Hux's body and raked his blunt nails down Hux's back. And Hux lived up to his Oeruban reputation: dishing out commands that mostly went ignored by Kylo, whispering dirty fantasies as he mouthed his way up and down the knight's body, moaning as Kylo's obscene lips tightened around his cock, all sorts of filthy praise-laced banter spilling from his lips as turned Kylo onto his stomach and worked him open, grunting as he thrust into the knight, and swearing loudly when he came, harder than he'd ever before. Hux could have sworn the lights flickered when Kylo's orgasm followed close behind.

He flopped on his back, panting up at the ceiling afterwards and closed his eyes, newly exhausted from the efforts, but blissed out in perfect satisfaction. Not bad for having been out of practice. He wondered how long it had been for Kylo, and chastised himself for the thought. It hardly mattered. Hux would likely wake up with too-long-unused muscles sore in the morning, hopefully not hungover, though he accepted that would be one of the side effects of getting older.

Though he remained suspicious that Kylo had been making it all up to suit his desires, Hux almost started believing in astrology that night, vowing to himself that he would only bed Valgas for the rest of his days. He laughed at his own thoughts. Oeruba. Valga. How ridiculous. These were constellations, not character types. People from Arkanis would never have wasted time with such nonsense. Not that it was even possible to see the stars there most nights, but Hux was sure that if his father or anyone else from his homeworld heard of these sorts of astrological superstitions he would have dismissed it at once, refusing to hear another word.

"Do you miss it?" Kylo asked. "Arkanis?" He added, as if he'd forgotten that Hux doesn't share his disturbing ability to ransack minds for answers.

Hux shrugged. "It's New Republic territory now," he said bitterly. "It's not the Arkanis I grew up on. Not the one I remember. They colonized it and destroyed anything related to the Empire, dismantled monuments, confiscated archives, redeveloped it to their own tastes. I wouldn't even recognize it anymore. I have no desire to see it in such a state."

Kylo rolled onto his side and stared at Hux, his face barely visible in the darkened room. "But do you miss it?"

"I miss the Arkanis from my memories, yes. Walking through the mountains, eating game you could only find in those woods, the different types of rain."

"Different types of rain?" Kylo laughed.

"It rained a lot there, sometimes harder, softer, colder, in short bursts, lazy drizzles. Our dialect had specific words for each type to keep things simple and clear."

"Interesting," Kylo said.

Hux had almost thought Kylo was making fun, but then he had scooted closer and nuzzled his face into the side of Hux's neck. "Tell me more about Arkanis."

And Hux did, he talked about the markets he remembered from childhood, the mountain trails he'd walked hand-in-hand with his adoptive stepmother, the bustling Scaparus Port that had seemed huge at the time, a kind of meaty soup his neighbors used to make for celebrations, the difference between a quanic rain and a quallic one, and so on until Kylo was snoring softly into his ear, one arm tucked around him. Hux had drifted off soon after.

==

 

That had been during the first year that the two of them had worked together. The next morning Kylo had slunk out before Hux awoke. They never spoke of it again. Hux had told himself it was fine. He didn't need any messy entanglements interfering with his duties as soon-to-be-appointed General of the First Order. And maybe it would have been fine if they had simply never seen each other again, or if Kylo had at least had the decency to behave civilly in company. But, no, Kylo had become the Master of his sect around the same time Hux became General and he was posted to the _Finalizer_ , same as Hux. And he seemed insistent on challenging Hux's every move, countering everything with snide rejoinders taken at Hux's expense, often in front of the entire bridge. Hux refused to stoop to that level, not flinching when Kylo invaded his personal space with his posturing, and not afraid to stick to his guns each time Kylo challenged his decisions. Out of the watchful eye of observers, he wasn't above compromising Kylo's missions or criticizing him before the Supreme Leader, taking great pleasure in Kylo's frustration, though he knew it would come back around later in the form of more trashed equipment. _Stubborn to a fault._

Hard to believe it's been a full standard year since then. And yet, here he is at the same bar as then, same drink in hand. This evening, though, he doesn't see Kylo. Nor anyone else who may pique his interest without adding any HR-related complications. Good, he decides. Downing the rest of his drink, he tells himself it's for the best. He's General now and another year older. Recklessly indulging in such wild carnal desires doesn't suit a professional man in his 30s. It hardly suited a man of his importance in his 20s. He stares up at his homeworld: still grey, still out of reach. _One day,_ he thinks, imagining arriving at Scaparus Port as an adult, the flags of the First Order finally replacing the banners of the New Republic all across Arkanis. The stars of Oeruba twinkle above it. One day. He sets the empty bottle on the counter of the bar along with a few credits as he walks out, back to where his shuttle is docked. His pilot jumps to attention as he approaches, saluting and hurrying off to prepare for departure.

Hux naps a bit in the hour it takes to reconvene with the _Finalizer_ , and spends the rest of the time sorting through messages on his data pad. He notices not one of them offers him well wishes on this anniversary of his birth, despite the fact that he's General now. Good. It's not a topic worth of mention in a professional environment. He should be proud that his underlings don't indulge in frivolous celebrations.

The shuttle docks with the _Finalizer_ and Hux steps out, a handful of TIE fighter pilots and technicians saluting him as he stalks through the hangar towards his quarters. An early night should serve him well. It's responsible.

He rounds a corner and is almost back to his room when he hears someone call out from behind him. He recognizes the voice instantly as Kylo's, who now appears nowhere without his masked helmet.

"General Hux," he says.

Hux stops in his tracks and takes a grounding breath before turning around. He is quick to douse a small flicker of surging hope with annoyance and jaded disinterest. Nothing Kylo has said to him in the last year of their interactions has ever approached the topic of last year's affair, why should this be any different.

"Ren."

Ren stands there looking awkwardly out of place, which Hux finds he actually prefers to the hulking shadow of darkness demeanor the knight usually employs in these halls. 

"Here,” Kylo says, shoving a small envelope into Hux's personal space.

Confused, Hux stares for a good several seconds before snatching it from him and giving it a look-over. “What is this?"

“It's for you,” Kylo says simply.

"Another expense report, I assume?"

Hux imagines that Kylo narrows his eyes from behind the helmet. "Enjoy," he says impassively before turning, robe swirling behind him as he heads off.

No answers, no explanations, typical Ren. Self-absorbed as ever. Hux sneers at his retreating form. Didn't even have the decency to wish-- forget it. Why would he remember? Shaking his head, Hux opens the envelope to find that it contains a portable drive. An work order, he's sure. He overheard the panicked transmission from maintenance last week, he knows consoles were destroyed by Ren's saber. He fists the drive in his hand and shoves it back into the envelope, stuffing the whole thing into the pocket of his greatcoat before storming off towards his room.

He tosses whatever it is that Kylo's burdened him with on his desk and shrugs off his coat, setting it carefully over his chair. He peels off his gloves and throws them on the desk as well, adding his hat to the pile before undoing the first several clasps of his tunic. From a shelf behind him, he pulls out a handle of top-shelf bourbon from Vallt. He turns and sets it on his desk, considering it: fuck it, it's still his birthday after all and he's allowed to celebrate in private. He pours himself a shallow glass and collapses into his chair, exhausted. It has been a busy year.

He eyes the parcel Kylo had handed him with and frowns. He leans over, setting his glass down and trading it for the small drive. He turns it over in his hands and sighs. It is too much to hope that it will be a mission report. Despite Hux's multiple commands, Kylo Ren has not _once_ in his entire First Order career submitted a debriefing and, perhaps even more infuriatingly, has not once been reprimanded by the Supreme Leader for a failure to do so.

Hux reaches into the pocket of his greatcoat for his datapad and slides the drive into its port. While the device accesses the information, Hux withdraws a pack of slim cigarras from his desk drawer and lights one.

A message pops up informing him that the drive contains an old-format holovid, not able to be played back on modern devices. Hux frowns, not surprised that it's not that mission report he'd asked for, but genuinely surprised that it doesn't seem to be anything to do with damages or expenses, either. So what is this, then? He drags on the cigarra. If it were anything official, it would have been handed down to him from the Supreme Leader himself, and Ren's cryptic non-answer betrayed no clues. It's obviously not something Ren himself has made, either, given that this holovid is old enough to require an Imperial-era droid for playback.

Why they don't make these fucking things backwards compatible is beyond him. How hard could it be to just create one model device that plays any and all media types? With all of the advances and variety in technology, it really shouldn't be that hard. Chaos and disorder. At least if ever he gets bored of weapons development, there is no shortage of equipment that could use his engineering talents. He has several ideas of how such a device might function and has no doubt it would improve efficiency leaps and bounds, galaxy-wide.

Grumbling to himself, he ejects the drive, grabs the envelope, and rises to power on an outdated R9 droid he keeps in his quarters in case old archival data like this is retrieved. R9 beeps and whistles to life. Hux inserts the drive and sits back on the foot of his bed. “Play recording,” he commands, exhaling a cloud of smoke. The droid makes a whirring noise as it processes the command. Hux turns the envelope over in his hand, looking for any clues as to what this might be. A note flutters out of it and to the floor. He must have somehow missed that the midst of his consternation in the hallway. Picking it up, he reads:

_Hux,_

_This is not the mission report you're looking for. But, hunting this took far more effort and toil on my part so perhaps you can at least appreciate that much. I believe you will._

_\--Kylo Ren_

_PS: happy birthday._

Before Hux can get too far into his own head on this, the droid's projector flickers to life and casts an image into the wide space before Hux. It's...

_Arkanis!_  The holovid begins, projecting an image of Hux's homeworld in the space before him.  _A rainy planet located in the Outer Rim territories. Closely guarded by Imperial forces, few historians and even fewer documentarians have been allowed access to the remote world. In a rare offer of goodwill by the planet's ambassador,_ Galactic Archivists _has been allowed this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to take you in for a closer look at the natural wonders of one of the galaxy's most secretive worlds!_

The cigarra Hux had perched between his lips falls, narrowly missing singeing his pants, and ends up on the floor.

"Shit," he swears, stomping it out with his boot as the projection changes.

_Due to its galactic position and orbit, the weather patterns on Arkanis create a natural landscape that is unique in the galaxy. Inhabitants of the planet, sentient and not, have had to learn to cope with seemingly endless stretches of rain and persistent cloud cover._

Hux looks up again, too stunned to continue listening to the voice-over. A panorama of the Ouachis Mountains is being displayed in his bedroom. Those trees with the broad leaves, the little white flowers that grow on the sandstone cliffs-- he would recognize them anywhere. Overcome, he raises a hand to his mouth.

_It has been said that Arkanisians have hundreds of words for "rain", though linguists argue this claim requires some explanation to be properly quantified._

Hux almost laughs. He stands and moves to get his datapad as the documentary continues. With shaking fingers, Hux drafts a message to Ren:

_< <Ren, I don't know where you found this, nor how to properly thank you for it, but. Well. This is... truly something special. Thank you._

Ren responds almost instantly.

_> >Don't mention it. Soon enough, you'll have the real thing back. Arkanis. Under the banner of the First Order, where it belongs._

Hux feels his gut tighten and he smiles. The holovid is still projecting.

_Due to the near-constant cloud coverage, the population of Arkanis rarely catches a glimpse of the night sky. Unfortunate, for them, as Arkanis boasts some of the cleanest air in the galaxy and if only the clouds would relent, the citizens of this lovely planet would be treated with fantastically clear views of some of the galaxy's favorite star clusters._

Hux's room is suddenly awash with what must be a star map as seen from the surface of Arkanis. He can't remember ever seeing it in person, but he instantly picks out two of the constellations. Oeruba, the saboteur, and the hunter twins, Valga: at opposite ends of the map, but still in orbit around each other. He swallows and takes a deep breath before writing his next his message.

_< <Ren, you once asked me about Arkanis. Would you like to watch this with me and find out more?_

His heart races wildly as he presses 'send' and waits for the reply. He looks up at the projection again, almost able to smell the soggy woodland air.

_The planet's multiple moons cause an interesting tidal phenomenon known as--_  

In his hands, his datapad pings.

_> >I'd like that, Hux._

Hux smiles, ear to ear, momentarily forgetting himself.

_< <Well come on then, you Valga. And hurry. My birthday is almost over._

 

==


End file.
